The play of the cards
by Bridgy
Summary: Phantom, A 14 year old moves to NYC and meets the cunning Racetrack. They become good friends and possibly even closer. One day, Racetrack starts acting weird in front of Phantom. Just what exactly is he planning?


**Hey yo! This is a one-shot that I did for someone on quizilla and I thought I'd share it with all of you on here too! ^^ Please Review :)**

So there I was...never mind. Let's not start out this way. My name is Shanna, but you can call me Phantom. I'm a newise and I live in New York City in Manhattan. I came here a little over a year ago, but now I'm 14. A real grown up now don'tcha think? As of right now though I'm crouched behind a garbage can, eyeing a booth of Italian bread. The smell of it made my stomach hurt even more because I was so hungry. As the old man turned his head to help an older woman now was my chance to take a loaf. I moved from behind the can and casually walked towards the booth and snatched a loaf, but I wasn't quick enough.

"STOP!" his voice roared. "Catch that damn ginger!" he called out.

Ginger? I thought. I should have taken two loaves for that comment. I then saw two cops heading my way, pointing their weapons towards me. I started to run for it faster now. They didn't call me Phantom for nothing. I ran past countless people in the busy street of Manhattan. I dodged push-carts and jumped over garbage cans and barrels. Suddenly I went crashing down and realized that it was a third cop I had not knowledge of. I cursed.

"A little slow today, girly." said the cop standing up and pulling me along with him. He held me fast while the other cops made their way up to me. The three of them towered over me like hungry dogs. That's what they were: Animals. I fierce grey eyes glared at them.

"Hand over the bread, missy." said the fastest. I licked all over the bread and then spat on his feet. He narrowed his eyes at me. "Listen kid, you wanna go to jail? We dump scabby kids like you there all the time." I said nothing to him. Suddenly I heard soft footsteps come up from behind me and the cops, including I, all turned around to see who it was. My eyes lit up when I knew who it was.  
>"Racetrack!" I shocked myself by how loudly and quickly I said it.<p>

Race gave me a reassuring nod and looked toward the cops. "There a problem officeh?" he asked as casually as he possibly could.

"This does not concern you, boy, not beat it." Said the youngest looking cop.

Race tsked and shook his head. "Nah. Can't do dat. Ya see...this lil flower," I cringed at the sudden 'name' he refurred me to. "Dis goil heah is my friend and I'se can't have ya messin' 'round wit her." The cops stood there, not saying a word. "Listen," said Racetrack, reaching in his pocket. "How much is the bread?" he asked.

"Three cents." replied one of the cops.

Racetrack took out some money, probably his paper money and picked out three cents. He handed it right to the cop holding me and finally he let me go. I rubbed my arm and glared up at the cop. I then walked over to Racetrack and watched as the filthy cops walked away.

Race sighed and stuffed the rest of his money in his pocket. "You'se lucky, Phanny." he said.

"Don't call me Phanny!" It was a second nickname that only he ever called me if we were ever alone together. Racetrack was a year older than me. Fifteen. And he LOVED telling me what to do and getting me out of tight situations and tell me or giving me the I-told-you-so look.  
>Racetrack chuckled. "You'se can be so ungrateful sometimes." he muttered as he walked down an alley. I could smell the drying clothes on the lines hanging above us. A group of small children playing on the side of the street with rocks watched us as we went.<p>

"What did you say?" I said, sounding more irritated.

Racetrack turned around, pulling out a cigar and lighting it. He took in a big drag and puffed it, slowing blowing it out. He said to me, "Ya temper is a wild as your red hair, Phanny."  
>Oh, I was so angry! This normally wasn't like me to get so upset. I was usually a very optimistic person, but Racetrack was pushing his luck. "Stop calling me that and your wrong about my temper," I crossed my arms and smirked. "You just don't know how to handle it."<br>He laughed at me and took another drag. "I'se know ya betteh than anyone else heah, Phantom. Remember how I found ya?" Racetrack was right. After I had fled from my home in Massachusetts, I had hoped from train to train. I had no choice to leave. My father was never home and my mother died from the small pox, so then I left out the back door and never showed my face there again, I sneaked my way in the carts. I was defiantly a phantom. After I arrived in New York, or I guess I should say, Long Island, seeing as the locals usually called that, I was ganged up on and most of my money was taken from me. Racetrack found me a few blocks from his street in an alley, laying on my side. He helped me. Him and his grandparents. He never did tell me WHY he just up'd and did that. I said nothing to him. I couldn't. "Exactly." he said and continued on walking.  
>I ran to catch up with him. "So ya done sellin' ya papes then?" I asked. Race nodded, taking another drag. "Why do you smoke those things?" I suddenly asked him.<p>

He shrugged. "I like 'em." he siply told me. He then eyed my bread that I still held in my left hand. "Ya gonna eat that? I paid three cents for it. Don' let it go t'waste." he told me. I looked down at my loaf and started eating. I offered him some but he shook his head.

As we neared the end of the alley he stopped and turned toward me. "Look, Phantom, I'se got some places to be right now."  
>I slowly nodded. "So when I can I see ya later t'day?"<br>He bent down and put out his cigar. "Not t'day, Phantom. But t'night we can. Meet me on the roof of my tenement at seven. Sound good? I'se got some stuff to show you." and just like that he walked away, without even a word back from me. He knew me fare too well. He knew that I would meet him there and damn he was so right! Racetrack had been my best friend since I arrived here. I soon found myself standing awkwardly alone in the street. I looked down at my dirty boots that were wearing out and then at my dirty hands that had dirt in the crevises. I was disgusted with how dirty I was. I never normally let myself get like that. bath day wasn't until tomorrow though. I sighed and kicked a stone in a gutter and walked off.

After some time of walking by myself a hand abruptly rested on my shoulder. I spun around fast, my hand smacking them in the process. "Cowboy?" I said.

He held his left cheek where I had hit him. "Ya got's a good hit, Phantom." he told me.

"Didn't mean ta do it." I said to him. "You scared me."  
>Cowboy nodded. "It's fine. Guess I'se had it comin'." he joked. "So what ya doin' by ya self? Usually you'se with Racetrack." I rolled my eyes at hearing his name. "What? What's wrong?"<p>

I sighed. "Racetrack told me he had things ta do ta day so he left me. Didn't tell me where or what he was doin eitheh." Cowboy stuffed his hands in his pockets and pintched his lips together. I gave him an odd look. "What's up?" I asked him.

He quickly shook his head. Actually. He did that far too quickly. "Nothin's wrong." he told me.

"Liar." I spat. "C'mon! Tell me what's up."

He took his right hand out of his pocket and scratched the back of his head. "Listen, Phantom, I suddenly remembered I had to meet Boots somewhere. Catch ya later." and just like that he left, leaving me stand there like a complete moron. What in the God forsaking, blooming WORLD was going on? Speaking of the world, I saw a newsie yelling out headlines for the world. I squinted my eyes to get a better look and saw that it was Boots. Wait one cotton picken minute...Didn't Cowboy JUST tell me he had to go meet Boots somewhere? Augh! That liar!

I walked right up to Boots just then and tapped him on the shoulder. He stopped shouting out headlines and smiled when he saw me. "Phantom!" he said rather loudly.

"Yo Boots!" said back.

"How ya doin' Jus' saw Jack wit ya."  
>I nodded and rolled my eyes. "Yeah...He's a ratheh confusin' guy. Speaking of confusin', did Racetrack or Cobow tell ya anythin' recently that may concern me?"<br>Boots turned his head to the side. "I aint hoid nothin'" he said.  
>"Ah ha! Liar! Ya actin' jus' like Jacky boy."<br>Boots finally looked me in the eyes. "I'se tellin' you'se da truth, Phantom!"  
>"OH PAH!" I waved my hand in the air. "I'se know ya lyin' cuz ya always turn ya head to the side if ya are."<p>

Boots dashed his his foot on the ground. "Gosh dang my turnin'!" he spat. I couldn't help but chuckle. "Look," said Boots. "Ya not suppose to KNOW."  
>Now we were getting somewhere. "Know what?" I pressed on.<p>

A man walked up to Boots and asked if Boots was sellin' his papes. Boots nodded and the man handed him a penny. He then turned toward me again and said, "Race has got some things dat he's gettin' ready for t'night."  
>"Yeah...He told me that."<br>"Well..." continued Boots. "Let's jus' say it some sort of surprise..." I crossed my arms and looked down. "Ya got nothin' ta worry 'bout, Phantom." Said Boots.

I nodded and then looked up at Boots. "Thanks, Boots."

All throughout the day as I walked the streets of New York, ocasionally bumping into other newsie like Blink and Mush, I found myself sitting at Times Square with nothing to do, but wondering what in heaven Racetrack was planning. He never pulled this kind of crap so it better be good when find out about this. I looked up at the sky, the sun was setting. It made the city glow and look bold in all of its 'richness'. I soaked in the moment for as long as I could before I had to make it back to the tenement. I picked myself up off the cold dirty ground and headed on back.

As I walked into the room of Races grandparents tenement, a waif of good ol' Italian food flooded into my nose. My stomach growled and it was then when I realized that I was hungry again.

"Mmm! Smells good!" I said, closing the door behind me.

"Hello, dear. Nice ta see ya back." said Races grandma with a smile that missed some of her teeth. Her thick black hair was pulled back into a bun again and she wore the same brown dress almost every day but Sunday, because of church that is.

"Where's the food?" I asked, suddenly taking notice of how naked the table looked.

"Oh!" said Granny. "My husbands workin' late again and I'se thought you and Thomas could eat up on the roof together." She quickly turned away to hide her blushing face.

Racetracks real name was Thomas Higgins. We went by the name 'Racetrack' because of how much he spent at the sheep shed races. We spent a lot of time there together. He was a great gambler and he knew it.

I walked out of the room and walked up on the roof. There a saw a small candle light on a table and who do I find there, sitting on his behind? Racetrack.

"Hey dorknor." I called him as I sat down across from him. "What's all this crap for?" I saw a little hurt in his eyes when I said it. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" I said quickly. "I'm only teasin'. It's not crap. It looks real nice." He smiled a laughed a little, knowing that I never intended any real harm in the first place. "I then looked down and saw a big plate of food in front of me. Spaghetti with red sauce and giant meat balls. "Oh wow!" I said, grabbing my fork, but before I could dig in, Racetrack stopped me.

"Don' eat yet."  
>"Why?"<br>"We's gotta talk foist."  
>"Why?"<br>"Because I'se got some stuff ta tell ya."  
>"Why?"<br>"Wouldja stop sayin' WHY?"  
>I giggled. "Ok. So what is it?" I was ready for anything.<p>

Racetrack reached over the plate of food and grabbed my hand. I lowered a brow at him. This was not like him. "Look," he started. "I'm ready ta tell ya why I helped ya out dat day."

I raised both brows this time. "I'm listening," I told him.

Racetrack took a breath. "When I saw ya...I felt unsure of what I should do. I'se was ready ta leave, but then I stopped myself and took a betteh look at ya. It was you. Jus' you, dat made me stop and think these exact woids: She's gonna be my goil someday." when I said I was ready for anything I take it back. I was NOT ready for what I feared Racetrack saying to me. I wanted to get up and leave him but what kind of person would I be then? I took in a deep breath and slowly let it out. "Shanna?" I looked up at him when he called me by my real name. "I love you." It was as simple as that. He just said it and suddenly I felt myself go all mushy. He then got up and knelt down in front of me.  
>"Oh God." I suddenly said.<p>

Race didn't seem to hear me though and he took my hands again in his. "Listen ta me, Shanna. I'se need ta know if ya feel da same way."  
>For a while I said nothing. "So this is what everyone was actin' so weird why ya ran off when ya did." Racetrack nodded. I felt myself smiling and holding on to Racetrack's hand even tighter. I nodded, saying yes to Races question.<br>"Say it." he told me. "I'se wanna heah those woids come outa mouth."

My face flushed and suddenly...I just said it: "I love you too."  
>Racetrack got back up, bent half way and kissed my face. He whispered, "Ti amo tantissimo, Shanna." and sat back down in his own chair. I knew what he said. It was italian for, I love you very much, Shanna. We then picked up our forks, chow down on our food, looked out to the city where the sun was just about ready to disappear and the view of the Brooklyn bridge about ten miles away looked so very lovely in its own way, and I would treasure this moment forever and so would Racetrack. Guess you could say our 'getting together' was just a lucky hand of playing the cards.<p> 


End file.
